


A Gentle Reminder

by gr8escap



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, BuckyNat Secret Santa, F/M, Memories, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/pseuds/gr8escap
Summary: Bucky had been in Wakanda for 24 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, and 2 hours. Give or take several hours for memory’s sake. Why was she there? She had been hanging around for the past 2 days. Talking to and laughing with Steve, and politely saying ‘hello’ to him when their paths crossed. Was she there to deliver his sentence from the outside world?  A quiet talk was all they'd need, finally curious enough to ask the question. He checked the thought that his therapist would be “happy with his growth”.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_romanoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_romanoff/gifts).



> This is my BuckyNat Secret Santa gift for winter_romanoff. It was so fun to write, using the second prompt on their list:  
> 2\. Concept: Bucky and Natasha having a deep conversation and realizing, they remember each other
> 
> Happy Holidays!!

Shrugging and stretching his shoulder, Bucky looked at his reflection in one of the many wall-length windows in his recovery suite. He scrutinized the bags that were faint beneath his eyes, rubbed the stubbled growth on his chin, and nodded, watching the thick wave of hair bounce in his face. He’d been in Wakanda for 24 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, and 2 hours. Give or take several hours for memory’s sake.

Of the duration, he’d been defrosted for three weeks, 5 days, and 8 hours. He’d been visited by his benefactor, T’Challa, he’d seen dozens of orthopedic specialists, and he’d spent endless hours with shrinks and spiritualists.

As he recounted these things, he thought about the many visits from Steve. His friend was in Wakanda now. Bucky was sure Steve was somewhere outside Bucky’s suite, likely chatting up the doctors or nurses. He saw a quick flash of red behind his own reflection and turned. Nobody was there in his room, so Bucky ventured out, bare feet padding on the heated tile floors.

Leaning against the counter down the hall at the nurse’s station, was Natasha. She was talking to Steve, who was, as predicted, talking with a group of specialists, laughing at something that had been said before he poked his head out the door. Steve looked up and smiled, Natasha looked at him curiously before one corner of her mouth quirked up. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Bucky said quietly. How was he supposed to explain his appearance? He’d just decided to go for a walk? Barefoot, and wearing only the thin pants, and oversized hoodie that Barton’s kids had sent him as a “get well” gift. He didn’t even know why they would do such a thing, but its deep front pocket and extra-large type declaring, “I’m Not Always Sarcastic – Sometimes I’m Sleeping” across the top made him feel good. Somehow, he expected that it was a nudge from their dad, or worse, a prank from Sam, but he didn’t care. It made him happy to think that not everyone – large blond man excluded – was going to treat him with kid gloves.

Unsure of what to do, or how to behave, Bucky ducked back into his room. He pulled the chair across the space and angled it so he could see outside, flexing his new fingers as he sat down. They were keeping him here for more tests. He was ok physically, and the arm worked well, having been completely redesigned and built, completely replacing what had remained. Surgeries had fixed some of Hydra’s jacked up experimental attempts to attach previous versions, and he happily experienced less pain now. He’d thought he was doing well mentally, sure, there were some things he’d probably be fighting for a long time, but overall, he’d felt better than he had in ages, until this little bit of self-consciousness and paranoia surrounding the two one-time Avengers in his hallway.

He’d been wondering when he was going to check out, he thought it was high time, so why was he still here? Security probably. Making sure his head was squared away, keeping him in an amazingly secure room, inside an even more astonishingly secure facility. Yet he wasn’t a prisoner. That’s what they said anyway. He’d do whatever T’Challa asked of him, he owed him his life, his arm, and his peace of mind. What there was to have anyway.

Even more curious, why was _she_ there? She had been hanging around for the past 2 days. Talking to and laughing with Steve, and politely saying ‘hello’ to him when their paths crossed. Was she there to deliver his sentence from the outside world? He heard the door open and forced himself to turn calmly in the direction of the sound.

“Sorry, I should have knocked.”

It was Natasha. He’d already known it from the sounds outside the room, but he still wasn’t ready for her. “It wouldn’t make any difference. Come in.”

“Steve tells me you’re about ready to be released.” Bucky watched her curl her legs beneath herself as she lowered into the chair opposite his. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m way past ‘ready to be released’. I think this would qualify as the worst case of cabin fever ever.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Her voice was soft and mellow as she sat looking across the valley outside. “Cute shirt.”

“It was in the package Steve said you brought. From Barton’s kids? It’s comfortable, and warm.”

“Does the cold go away?” Natasha looked at him, wanting to say things, uncertain in her own skin. His smile wasn’t cold. No, that was as warm as it had ever been.

“It does, slowly. I guess keeping my feet bare doesn’t help. I got used to it when I needed a little extra help – picking things up, you know, before the surgeries and the…” he wiggled the fingers on his left hand, “implants.”

“You know, there was never an occasion where I thought of you as soft, but you look very soft.”

“Don’t let it get out. I’m not.” Bucky stuffed his hands deep into the pocket, contradicting himself with the action, “Tell the kids, maybe, that I laughed when I read it.”

“I’ll tell them you looked like a soft kitten, and used it to warm your hands.”

“You’re the one who’s always looked feline.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at the way she was sitting.

“Comfort, after a lifetime of very little, is no small thing.”

He nodded, lifting his hands in his pocket in a stilted attempt to salute her comment. The silence between them was warm and reassuring. Bucky watched as Natasha moved in her seat, her feet never touching the ground as she rearranged her limbs.

“What do you mean, always?” Natasha finally asked, scrutinizing him as she ran her finger idly along the piping on the arm of her chair.

Bucky watched her obvious diversionary tactic and wondered if it was a trick question. “Always? I mean your lithe stretches, and that confusing way you have of folding yourself into the tiniest positions, and your eyes. Those things always struck me as cat-like. Your tendency to be aloof with your feelings isn’t just a holdover from them either.

“You sure?” She grinned, mirroring his position, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, “You’re one to talk, the Lone Wolf.”

“Hey, you wanna take this outside?” He couldn’t resist a grin at her quick reaction, “I mean, I wasn’t kidding when I said I was getting cabin fever. Walk with me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Natasha watched as Bucky put on a pair of shoes and held the door open. She uncurled from her cozy spot, and followed him down the corridor of the warmly decorated building. They nodded at Steve as they passed him. This facility was so far removed from any hospital she’d ever seen, and she was grateful for the difference.

Once they stepped outside, Bucky tipped his head back feeling his hair catch on the hood of the pullover, before shaking it loose and breathing in the fresh air.

“So, you think you and I have met before?” Natasha asked, walking alongside him, her shoulder brushing his arm occasionally.

“We’ve met several times before.” Bucky smirked, shoving his hands deep into the pocket of the sweatshirt. “Some not so good.”

They walked the path that led around the facility, and overlooked the Valley of Wakanda. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but the thought of words was embarrassingly so. She looked at his profile attentively, as he watched some wild birds. This never used to be so hard. “Zvezda Moya.”

At first, he’d thought it was his imagination, then it could have been some whisper of leaves in the trees, it was so softly spoken. He turned to face her, his hand stopping just short of brushing her arm. “You remember?”

“Dreams. Fantasies.” She folded her arms, but Bucky wouldn’t let her close him out, he settled his hand on her forearm, brushing his thumb against her finger.

“But fantasies don’t have familiar nicknames, Kotyonok. Nor are they the same in both people having them, unless one of us is in the other’s head. I wouldn’t do that to you, I know how it feels.”

“You said “some not so good”, some were good though, right?” The thought that the entire world’s center of gravity depended on his next words disturbed her. That might not be accurate, but in the moment, it was how she felt.

“We had some moments.” He smiled tenderly, “do you remember any of the good ones?”

“I feel like there was a winter escape. I wanted to see the festivities, and snuck away. I was so proud that I managed to get out without being noticed. I had squirreled away random pieces of clothing from different training missions, and I was able to change into something to blend in with everyone else. The cold air was freeing, and I danced around feeling as if I’d gotten away with something. Until you showed up and darkened my mood.”

“You shone. You didn’t let on that I’d darkened anything. I must have failed.”

“You looked different, not as menacing.”

Bucky smirked, “You asked if I knew about Сочельник or Рождество. I told you that your people celebrated beautifully but on the wrong day.”

“You were teasing me. You appeared to be very feisty that time. You were uncharacteristically open, and maybe even curious?”

“I was curious, about you, and I had started remembering some things. Something with a bright, colorful shimmer caught my interest, and memories started flooding in. I took a walk, and when I saw you, I recognized a fellow defector, even if it was just destined to be temporary.”

“I was just nineteen. I must have been a pest.”

Bucky found he liked her soft smile, “You were _always_ a pest, but not в ночь п еред Рождеством.” Bucky’s fingers trailed over the soft curve of Natasha’s arm, and latched gently around her wrist, “Anything else, Solnyshko?”

Natasha watched as his fingers tenderly trailed from her wrist, over the back of her hand, “Solnyshko you were mine, and I was yours.” She linked her fingers with Bucky’s, “Are you testing me, or yourself?”

“Both?” His smile was endearing, “Do you ever wonder why we were not allowed to keep those memories?”

“We couldn’t do the job. If we were one another’s priority, could you imagine? We would be their biggest nightmare.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t realize that at the time. We could have avoided a lot of heartache.” Bucky stepped closer, placing his new metal fingers over the apple of her cheek, “It really is too bad.”

“I don’t know, sure, we suffered, but we gained things too. Maybe you and I – maybe things would have fallen apart and the good things would have tarnished.”

“Maybe the good things you’ve done since would never have happened. I wouldn’t take that from you Natalia.”

“If I’d known.” Natasha stepped back, turning back toward the view, “and been able to do more, if they didn’t take that from me too, I would have saved you.”

“But you did.” Bucky insisted, seeing her frown waver, “You were always a little bit of light. Besides, you helped with the fall of SHIELD, and you helped when we needed to – when we _thought_ we needed to – go to Siberia. You saved me then.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Bucky furrowed his brow, trying to think of the right thing to say, his frown softening into a tender smile, “But it’s what we have. I’m satisfied with what we have. So, have you come here to deliver me to a prison cell?”

“No. No, I was just checking up on Steve, and I wanted to see how you were progressing. He _is_ my friend James.”

“I’m glad he is. He’s a good friend to have, and to keep. Has he been as good to you as you have him?”

“If I said ‘no’, would you fight him again?” Natasha grinned up at Bucky, and he laughed at the mischievous glint in her eye.

“I think maybe you’d have to be my proxy. I’m not in shape after being coddled in this place.”

“There’s a gym, I could whip you into shape.” Nat challenged, “You up for a sparring session or two?”

“Have you been talking to my physical therapist, or my psychological therapist?”

“That settles it. Later, we rumble.” Nat hooked her hands around Bucky’s arm and led him further away from the building, into the private garden.

They walked together, again comfortable in each other’s silence. Natasha, thinking she felt more at ease now than she had with him in his room. Bucky was still curious about her visit, but comforted that his paranoid thoughts seemed unfounded. She led him to a gnarled wood stump that was placed to take advantage of its unique shape, as a bench.

“Did you start to remember before you came here?” Bucky asked, sitting down beside her, finally curious enough to ask the question. He checked the thought that his therapist would be “happy with his _growth_ ”.

“I’ve had dreams since Leipzig. I should confess; curiosity motivated me to accept T’Challa’s invitation to stay a while. I can steer clear, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t do that.” He could have said more, but it really wasn’t necessary, considering the way his voice betrayed him. He might as well have said, “How could you think such a thing?” or “ _please stay_ as long as you can”.

Natasha’s lips quirked, but she didn’t acknowledge his urgent tone. “If I get in the way, you _have to say something._ ”

“You bet I will. How have you been since everything? Staying safe, I hope.”

“Escaping for зимние праздники wasn’t my first lesson in being covert, but you also know it wasn’t my last. Of course, I’ve stayed safe. I learned from the best. This isn’t… it’s not my ideal situation, but it’s familiar.”

“That’s definitely not ideal. Have things died down at all? Are you still on the lam?”

“There are talks of reversing The Accords, other rumblings that they weren’t in place when everything went down, and everything that happened should be considered on a case-by-case basis. I think Tony and T’Challa are working those angles. If that’s the case, we could have good news soon.”

“But we know how things can get FUBARED.” Bucky leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Don’t we?” Natasha spread her fingers over her thighs, feeling the coarse denim beneath the pads of her fingers. She watched Bucky in profile as he took in the view. “How is it, now that you’re awake again?”

“Scary. I know things are fixed, but I have this lingering fear that maybe something was missed. I’m working on that through therapy. It was nice to be out of sight before, but now I feel like I have to _do something_. As if I owe the people who helped me, and the people I’ve wronged, some kind of recompense.”

“I know how that sits. Get through your recovery, 100% first. Don’t rush out there, before taking advantage of everything that’s being given. You can always call me if you get restless.”

“You and Steve would be happy to put me through my paces.”

“I know I would. He’s probably game for someone to put him through his as well.” She smiled, “James, I’m glad you’re at this stage, and that you’re here, with access to help. Don’t go off half-cocked because you’re agitated.”

“Is that why you stalked me in my room? Was that a message from Steve?” Bucky straddled the stump, facing Natasha.

“No James.” Nat put her hands on Bucky’s face, “That’s a message from me. He never listens to my advice; I hoped you’d be different.”

Bucky mirrored her, putting his hands on her cheeks, before threading them into the hair at the base of her neck, “I’ll do my best. You should be thankful I’m stuck here until T’Challa decides I can go, not me, not Steve, or you.”

Natasha brought their foreheads together, closing her eyes, before opening them again, trying not to go cross-eyed at the close proximity, “Thank heaven for small favors.”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh and pulled back to look her in the eye.

“So, what do you say I whip your ass into shape this afternoon?” Natasha asked, a trace of humor beneath the challenge.

“I say it’s about time you return the favor.” Bucky winked at Natasha, and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Terminology used obtained from these sources:  
> [Russian Christmas Traditions](http://masterrussian.com/blog/russian-christmas-traditions/)  
> Рождество (Christmas)  
> Сочельник (Christmas Eve)  
> в ночь перед Рождеством (on Christmas night)
> 
> From [fuckyeahbuckynatasha: A FEW RUSSIAN ENDEARMENTS FOR YOUR WINTER SOLDIER WRITING NEEDS](http://fuckyeahbuckynatasha.tumblr.com/post/123847579893/a-few-russian-endearments-for-your-winter-soldier)  
> solnyshko = little sun  
> zvezda moya = my star  
> kotyonok = kitten


End file.
